Love, One Coffee At A Time

confessions
Love, One Coffee at a Time

Every morning, like clockwork, he walked into the café, ordered a black coffee, and sat by the window. And every morning, I was behind the counter, pretending not to stare.

It took him months to finally talk to me—just a casual “Morning” at first. Then, one day, he forgot his wallet. I laughed, covered his bill, and said, “Now you have to come back tomorrow.” The next day, he left a note with his payment: “How about I buy you coffee instead?”

That’s how it started. Just coffee. Then long conversations. Then late-night walks. And now? Now I wake up next to him every morning, making coffee for two.

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